“Indeed?” He pushed a shock of blond hair back from his forehead and regarded her somberly. “But I have been entertaining your group with the sole purpose of gaining your attention. It appears I will have to try harder. I hear a waltz, Miss O’Rourke. May I have this dance?”
With all eyes upon her, Gina could do little else but accept. She had been meaning to talk to Mr. Booth anyway. “Delighted,” she said, taking his outstretched hand.
They had scarcely entered the dance when the music ended, but instead of returning her to her friends, he kept her there awaiting the next dance. “Are you enjoying London, Miss O’Rourke?”
“As much as I’ve been able. My family has had no small amount of problems since arriving here.”
“I have heard, Miss O’Rourke. You have my sympathies.”
She believed him. His manner and speech were so warm that he was hard to doubt. “Thank you.”
He hesitated before he spoke again, obviously choosing his words carefully. “Am I correct in thinking matters have eased for you, and that you and your sisters are well?”
For Bella and Lilly, matters were much improved. As for herself, she had certainly regained a healthy measure of courage and self-confidence. “Very well, thank you.”
She fancied that he looked somehow relieved. But why would that be the case, unless he felt somehow responsible?
“I have heard whispers that you are leaving soon for Ireland. Is that so?”
She laughed. “I should not be surprised at the amount of information shared over teacups, yet I confess I am. Yes, it is true. My mother and I have berths aboard a ship departing on Monday.”
“I am sorry to hear that, Miss O’Rourke. I should very much have enjoyed getting to know you better.”
Warmth crept into her cheeks at his apparent sincerity. “No matter how much time we have to explore new possibilities, it is never enough, is it, sir?”
His smile was his answer. He looked around the ballroom and the expression on his face tightened, as if it had frozen in place.
Fear prickled the back of her neck and she turned in the direction of his stare. Dancers whirled past, obscuring her view. What could Mr. Booth have seen to cause such a reaction? “Are you all right, Mr. Booth?”
He blinked and came back to himself. “Quite. I collect the orchestra will be taking an intermission. Would you consent to stroll with me in the garden?”
A request, that if made moments ago she would have accepted, she now refused. “Thank you, but the paths must be wet from the rain. I’d prefer to stay inside.”
“Oh. Yes, certainly. But I am loath to return you to your friends just yet.”
As harmless as he seemed, she knew she dared not trust him, but she desperately wanted to question him. “Shall we find a quiet spot? “
He nodded and she followed him down the same corridor she and Jamie had taken barely an hour ago. Knowing the room would be vacant, she went directly to the small parlor and went inside, leaving Mr. Booth to follow and close the door.
She no longer had the luxury of time. Only bluntness would serve her now. She turned and tilted her head to one side. “We have met previously, have we not, Mr. Booth?”
He bowed his head. “We have, Miss O’Rourke, but I gather you do not recall the particulars.”
“Enlighten me, sir.”
“‘Twas about two months ago. An estate on the outskirts of Mayfair.”
“You were there that night?”
“To my shame.”
“And mine,” she whispered to herself. She sat and folded her hands in her lap to gain her composure before she dared look at him again. “I have always wondered what sort of man would attend such an affair. I would not have thought it of a man of your ilk, Mr. Booth.”
“‘Twas my first attendance at such an affair. I had been led to believe it was voluntary by all the participants and for salacious purposes rather than the debacle it turned out to be. But then, I gather that was Daschel and Henley’s method of recruiting postulants into their ‘brotherhood.’ I’ve heard from others that one attendance was enough to be drawn in, and that it was impossible to leave. Blackmail, you see. Dash was determined to convert us all to elemental base practices, while Henley merely wanted us to sink to his level. To control us.”
Gina breathed deeply. As ugly as Mr. Booth’s words were to hear, at least they had the ring of truth.
“I realized, after the chalice was passed and we all drank, and once I saw you, that you’d been drugged as the postulants had been. I am not mistaken in that, am I, Miss O’Rourke? You did not volunteer to be a virgin sacrifice?”
A gurgle of hysterical laughter erupted from somewhere deep inside her. Volunteer? “Never.”
“Then I am glad to see you so well, and pleased that it ended the way it did, even though it had quite grim consequences for some of us.”
In her own self absorption it had never occurred to her that others might have been affected. “What, prithee, were the consequence to you and your friends?”
“We’ve been blackmailed, Miss O’Rourke. Half our fortunes have lined Henley’s pockets. We cannot denounce him without exposing our complicity. And we cannot expose our complicity without utter ruin to our families and loved ones.”
A small tingle of sympathy worried the back of her mind. Impossible! Sympathy for her tormentors, albeit unwitting ones?
“And I furthermore collect that you have been seeking us out, one by one, and disposing of us?”
“Disposing? You mean…no! I want Henley caught and punished, as much for my sister Cora as for myself. I want the authorities to lock him away forever, but I have not taken the law into my own hands.”
“You did not kill Stanley Metcalfe?”
“No! I think he was trying to help me.”
“You were the last person to be seen with him alive.”
“Moments after he left me, I was assaulted by Mr. Henley.”
“Christ! If Henley was there that night …”
“He killed Mr. Metcalfe. Perhaps to prevent him from giving me information.”
Mr. Booth sank to the settee beside her. “He is a madman.”
“Will you help me, Mr. Booth? Will you tell me where to find him so that I can inform the Home Office?”
“I do not know where he is hiding. He comes to us with his demands in public places, where we cannot attack him without drawing attention. He is a marked man, Miss O’Rourke. Leave his demise to others. It is far too dangerous for you.”
“I cannot. I shall be taken back to Ireland soon, and I am desperate to have the matter concluded before then.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “Yes, then. I will help you. A day—two at most—and I will find information for you.”
The door was thrown open and Charlie stood there, looking as outraged as a cuckolded husband. “Damn me, Miss O’Rourke! There you are! You gave me a bad turn. Come along now. ‘Tis time I took you home.”
“One moment she was dancing with Booth, and the next she’d disappeared completely. I swear, Jamie, that girl takes perverse pleasure in giving me apoplexy.”
Jamie smiled and tipped his chair back on the hind legs. Perverse pleasure is precisely what he’d had with Missy Metcalfe. Well, a form of it, at any rate. He hadn’t taken her, even when she’d opened her legs in an invitation. Nor had he taken her up on those lush, full breasts so enticingly offered when she’d pushed her gown lower to reveal them in their full glory.
She’d been completely nonplussed that he’d refused her and had gone even further to tempt him, pinching and teasing those taut rosy buds herself until they’d tilted up to beg his mouth. Had it been Gina to do those things, he’d have found the scene insanely erotic. But Miss Metcalfe was so practiced, so contrived, that she’d been no more interesting to him than Suzette. And he suspected the rumors about her were kinder than the actual truth.
He suspected, in fact, that Missy might have been sent to distract him. He’d called her add
ress to the driver and dropped her in front of her house a few minutes later, leaving her to adjust her own clothing.
Now, well past midnight and safely tucked away in a corner of the Crown and Bear, he merely sighed and nodded to Charlie’s complaints. Gina was, undoubtedly, elusive. And perverse.
“She was with Adam Booth, by God. The two of them sitting there in the dark, her hand in his. I thought she was sweet on you, Jamie. I’d have sworn there was something powerful between you two.”
Booth? Could she prefer Booth to him? The notion angered him. She’d given herself to him and, virgin or not, he damn well knew she hadn’t given that up to anyone before last night. No, there had to be another explanation for their meeting.
“Calm yourself, Charlie. We had a rather nasty argument before I left the ball. Perhaps she was just trying to prick my pride.” As he’d tried to prick hers with Missy Metcalfe?
“Must be a new experience for you, eh? A woman who does not fall all over you? But I still think you should not amuse yourself with her. Keep your carousing to the demimonde.”
Jamie merely ignored Charlie, it being far too late for such warnings now. Still, the thought of Gina’s hand in Adam Booth’s caused him a bad turn. He would have to have a word with the man.
“Ah, here they are,” Charlie murmured. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Jamie watched as Dick and Artie Gibbons sidled through the door, both scanning the room with a quick sweep of dull eyes. “They are utter strangers to truth and honor, Charlie. I really don’t know why we bother. If we weren’t so damned desperate …”
When Dick saw them he nudged his brother and they headed for Jamie’s table. “Hear you was lookin’ fer us t’other night at the Cat’s Paw,” Dick said.
“Aye, we were.”
“Y’gots somethin’ fer us?”
“We were hoping you’d have something for us.”
“Like what?”
“Information. Have you found Henley’s hiding place?”
Artie licked his lips, indicating he’d like a drink, and Dick eyed Charlie’s glass. Jamie signaled Mick to bring two more glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
The brothers dragged chairs from a nearby table and sat, staring at Jamie as if they could unnerve him. Jamie leaned back in his chair again and crossed his arms over his chest.
Dick broke eye contact when Mick brought the bottle and glasses. Two quick shots later, he seemed ready to talk.
“Found it, but he’d gone.” Dick rubbed the stubble that lined his dirty jaw. “Ain’t found ‘is new hole yet. Y’ want more, yer gonna have t’ pay fer it.”
Jamie ignored the clear extortion and addressed the other subject that had been on his mind. “Did you hear that Stanley Metcalfe was killed a few days back?”
Artie gave one of his wheezing laughs while Dick merely grinned. “Well, now. Ain’t that interestin’.”
“Do you know anything about that, Dick?”
“Maybe I got my suspicions.”
“I’ve got mine, too. Want to compare?”
“You first.”
“Henley, himself. Someone saw him at the masquerade.”
Dick looked surprised. “So y’ knows about that, eh?”
“Why do you suppose anyone would want him dead?” Charlie asked.
“Got in somebody’s way, I’d say.”
“How so?”
“Dunno. Askin’ too many questions, ‘d be my guess. Kinda like you an’ yer brother.”
Was that a none too subtle warning for him and Charlie? “Metcalfe aside, there have been an extraordinary number of attacks of late. For instance, someone took a shot at Charlie the night after Metcalfe’s murder. I don’t take kindly to that.”
A shrug was Dick’s only answer, but he looked down into his glass and would not meet Jamie’s eyes nor look at Charlie. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. Every instinct he had pointed to the Gibbons brothers for that attempt. And here they were, sitting across the table drinking their whiskey. His fingers itched to tighten around Dick’s throat and go for Artie after. Instead, he took a deep breath and gave Charlie a sharp warning look.
“Seems like London is getting dangerous for certain men of the ton.”
“I don’t give a ha’penny for nabobs,” Dick said. “They c’n all go to hell, an’ I wouldn’t care.”
“Who would you blackmail then, Dick? Where would you get your money? “
He gave a sideways grin. “We’d find a way. Right, Artie?”
Artie chuckled and bobbed his head.
Charlie narrowed his eyes. “Good idea, Dick. Because I’m thinking jobs might get pretty scarce for you. Hope you’ve put some money away for a rainy day.”
“Never you mind what we gots,” Dick snarled. Even Artie turned somber at the mention of money.
Jamie wondered again what these men did with their blood money and how much they’d be paid for killing Charlie and him. One thing had become evident—the Gibbons brothers were not their allies. Either Henley had something on the or he was paying more, and nothing Jamie could say would sway them.
Suddenly, Jamie was done with them. The price to his soul for dealing with such scum was too great and nothing but treachery could come from it. He pushed his chair back and stood, and Charlie followed suit.
“I’m out, lads. No more games. No more bribes. You’d do best to stay out of my sight.”
A look of such anger passed over Dick’s face that Jamie suspected he was planning revenge. “You sure you wants to make enemies o’ us?” he asked.
“Never surer of anything in my life.”
Dick and Artie stood together and measured themselves against Jamie and Charlie. The decision made, they backed toward the door and faded into the night.
From the bar, Mick Haddon grinned and raised a glass to them.
By the time Charlie arrived at the Argyle Rooms with his charges the next night, Jamie was waiting anxiously. After what Charlie had told him last night about Eugenia and Adam Booth being closeted together in a darkened room, he’d been ready to call the man out. Never mind that he was one of Charlie’s best friends.
He stood in conversation with their host, Lord Geoffrey Morgan, and watched as a footman lifted Gina’s cloak from her shoulders. When she turned toward the room, he broke off in the middle of his sentence. Gina wore a gown of French blue fashioned with a bodice that dipped to a low point between her breasts, revealing only the lush curves to each side. Oh, but it hinted at so much more. A white mother-of-pearl cameo fastened to a matching blue ribbon circled her throat. The gown was tenfold more seductive than Missy Metcalfe’s bold gown of last night.
Behind him, he heard a man whisper to his companion. “Good Lord! Who is that breathtaking creature in blue? And what would I have to do to gain an introduction?”
“I believe that is Miss Eugenia O’Rourke. She is the sister of Andrew Hunter’s bride, and the chit who was betrothed to the Marquess of Olney but ran off with Devlin Farrell.”
“Wild blood, then? All the better. Here’s Morgan. Shall we maneuver that introduction?”
As the men moved from behind to face them, Jamie was ready. He’d be damned if he’d allow another man to taste what he’d tasted. Gina was his.
That thought astonished him. His. Gina was his. Damned if he didn’t love her. Why had he never realized that before? Oh, the mere thought of her, the memory of her, had haunted him since they’d met. He’d wanted her for as long as he had known her. He’d been saddened by the realization that she could never love him because he was a memory of everything loathsome to her, but he’d never stopped to realize that he loved her. Yesterday he had proposed to her. But he’d never recognized his own feelings for what they were. Love had happened to him at last, and it was undiluted Hell.
“‘Lo, Morgan,” one of the men said.
Geoff Morgan nodded. “Hoppes,” he acknowledged. “Worick.”
“Excellent diversion,” Hoppes said by way of pleasantr
ies. “Worick and I were wondering if you could introduce us to that comely creature who just arrived with the Thayer twins.”
“Afraid he couldn’t,” Jamie answered for Geoff.
Geoff covered his surprise and regarded Jamie with an appraising eye. “Uh, yes. My good friend Hunter, here, has laid claim.”
Hoppes and Worick regarded Jamie with a jaundiced eye. “Declared yourself, have you?” Worick asked.
He nodded.
“Haven’t heard any announcements,” Hoppe added.
Jamie gave them a cold smile. “You will.”
“If she should change her mind, tell her I am waiting.”
Change her mind? She hadn’t the least notion yet that she would say yes. But she would. He’d do whatever he had to do to make that happen. “She won’t.”
Both men gave a quick bow to Geoff and backed away.
“Congratulations?” Geoff ventured.
“She hasn’t said yes.”
“Will she?”
Jamie shrugged. “I may have some persuading to do.”
“Just made up your mind, eh? From the interest she is garnering, I’d make my intentions clear very soon, Jamie.”
Excellent idea. “Thanks for the advice,” he said, handing his wineglass to Geoff and heading for Gina’s group.
Charlie saw him coming, glanced between him and Gina, and took a single step back to make room for Jamie at Gina’s side. She was engrossed in conversation with Harriett Thayer and she hadn’t seen him.
“Miss Eugenia,” he greeted her with a bow.
She turned to him and his heart stood still for a moment, then resumed beating in a rapid measure. She was dazzling and conjured memories of their night together. Her lips curved in a smile, then dropped into a straight line as she evidently recalled their last conversation. He’d been boorish and bad-tempered, but she’d tweaked his pride rather badly. He’d apologize and find some way to make it up to her.
He extended his hand in a silent invitation, then held his breath at her hesitation as she stared at a point over his shoulder.
“Miss O’Rourke! How fortuitous. I have been looking for you. Might I beg this dance?”
Regency: Rakes & Reputations (Mills & Boon M&B) Page 17
